


Proper Fit

by Rubynye



Category: White Collar
Genre: Clothing Kink, F/M, M/M, Porn Battle, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-12
Updated: 2013-02-12
Packaged: 2017-12-03 06:20:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/695180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rubynye/pseuds/Rubynye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Elizabeth tries on Neal's suit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Proper Fit

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Petra LeMaitre (Petra)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Petra/gifts).



"If you pop a button, June will kill me." Neal tries to get up as he speaks, but all he manages is a slight wheeze and a bright blue eye-roll as Peter tightens the arm across his chest and smiles at Elizabeth over his tousled head.

El smiles back as cheekily as she can, and Neal groans giggle-inducingly and goes limp against Peter's chest; she notices, however, pleased and warm with the thought, that he doesn't shut his eyes, he doesn't stop watching her. Neither does Peter, who rests his chin on Neal's shoulder as they both look at her with the warmest eyes, like she's the most fascinating woman in the world.

El grins in delight and turns back to the mirror, feeling the sunshine warmth of their gazes as she buttons Neal's jacket under her breasts and firms up her tie's knot. She leans over to grab Neal's trilby and listens to two quietly indrawn breaths, feeling heat spill down her spine and slickness between her thighs as she sets the hat just so, precisely tilted atop her wild bedhead, and pivots, arms out. "What do you think?" she asks, the jacket's edges brushing her hips like fingers, the tie a broad silken band around her throat.

They both look delightfully stunned. Neal's lips are red and wet and an inch parted, the pulse beats in the hollow of his throat and he looks so toothsome; Peter's eyes are as round and blown-dark as in her best memories of him and his voice shakes just once on, "What," before he swallows -- El can just imagine his throat bobbing, her mouth waters with wanting to bite him there too -- and continues with, "about the pants?"

Okay, there's that. El glances over at the slacks, but not only would they be much too long but there's no way she could get her ass into them. "Oh, no, no no," Neal says to Peter, echoing her thoughts with annoying eagerness, and she folds her arms, feeling the sunlight gone behind a cloud. But he keeps going, looking at her with that blue sparkle as he says, "They would never do for such an opulent bottom."

"Opulent?" El echoes, warmth flaring again, up to a blush. She glances over her shoulder, or starts to until Peter nods in fervent agreement, lifting the arm tucked beneath Neal to hold out his hand to her. "Really?"

"I choose my words very carefully," Neal purrs, sleek and seductive, as if he hasn't already got her in the bag, got them both. "Absolutely opulent. Glorious, even." He holds out his hands too, though one arm's pinned at the elbow by Peter's unwavering grip, and El wants to just dive right back in and land on them both. Instead she makes herself swing her hips and stroll back to the bed, thinking of the hat perched on her hair and the jacket straining around her breasts, the image of herself she can see shining in both her guys' eyes.

As Peter shifts towards her Neal smiles wider and wider, right up until she leans over them and he rests one hand on her shoulder and pushes the other back against Peter's to restrain him. "Hey, hey, is that any way to treat a work of art?"

"Caffrey," Peter growls, and El watches Neal's eyelashes flutter with the same quiver that runs through her, "let me kiss my wife." His arm slides down Neal's chest, hand vanishing beneath the sheet into an unmistakeable curl; Neal's eyes flare wide as his smooth chest rises in a deeper breath and _damn_ but El could almost just watch them all day.

Of course, only almost. "Dirty trick, Burke," Neal retorts, voice shaking; El laughs at them, because they're both in her bed, because she can, and pulls herself away from his warm hand long enough to stand up and ease the jacket buttons free. She shimmies it down her arms as gracefully as she can manage, which isn't very, but the wiggle makes her breasts bounce under the shirt and this time both Peter and Neal's mouths gratifyingly fall open; she hangs the jacket on the chair by the bed, lets the hat tumble artfully off her head and sets it down too, just so.

"This better, art expert?" El reaches for the tie next; instead of speaking, Neal catches her, sliding his fingertips over her breastbone, curling them around the tie and tugging gently. El leans in again, and Peter pulls his arm out from under Neal and sits up all the way, not taking his other hand off Neal, not needing to as he buries his freed hand in her hair and kisses her.

Almost everything vanishes for that moment, blotted out by the familiarly intense delight of Peter's mouth firm and tender on hers, everything except Neal's voice sunk to a breathy growl in her ear. "The shirt's mine," he tells El as he wraps his arm around her waist to help her climb back into bed. "I'm looking forward to ripping it off you."

Elizabeth groans happily against Peter's mouth and finds Neal's smooth cheek by braille, gently pinching his ear as she squirms in between them and Peter backs off just to grab a needed breath. As she slides her hand down Neal's sleek abs to interlace her fingers with Peter's, Neal slides his up the tie, tilting El up to his kiss as he wriggles his fingers into the silk knot.


End file.
